


Pride Cruise University

by debinoresu



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akechi is a vlogger because the detective prince thing doesn't work in a rational world, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Personas (Persona Series), Alternate Universe - No Powers, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, M/M, No Metaverse (Persona 5), Slow Burn, Sort Of, akechi is sad and alone in the corner like a fool, eiko is makoto's roommate, haru and hifumi are roommates, mishima is ryuji's roommate, oh and akechi?, shiho is ann's roommate, thats the blocks, yusuke is akira's roommate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-06 00:12:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debinoresu/pseuds/debinoresu
Summary: Kurusu Akira is finally starting his first semester at Pride Cruise University. However, after immediately making friends with a gang of clownish individuals, they all come to discover that a little more might be going on than what's expected of the average prestigious University.---Literally basically a retelling of Persona 5 in a University AU with shuake featured prominently. Character introductions will generally happen earlier on, but the palace/major event orders will stay the same. A lot of it is pre-written, so I can keep consistent weekly updates.





	1. Moving In

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! I already have quite a few chapters of this written, but I ultimately don't know how long this is gonna end up being. I have the plot blocked out and want to try to finish writing this before Summer is over. I'm really bad at tagging so I'll probably end up adding more later. Anyways, enjoy!!!

“Welp, this is our stop, kid.” Sojiro glanced up at Akira through the rear-view mirror. Well, Akira and Futaba, as she had so insisted to sit next to him. Sojiro, alone at the front in his best hat, gave off the impression of a chauffeur.

Despite having thrown a fit for her current position, Futaba was sat pouting, arms crossed, eyes anywhere but in Akira’s direction. Used to her antics, Akira casually slid out of the car alongside Sojiro and lingered behind as he popped the trunk open. “Futaba! Help unload the car.” Sojiro commanded, and Futaba peeked around at them from her passenger door, head lolled to the side and hair dangling over her eyes, though they were still clearly watering. “Why should I help? All it’ll do is make him leave faster!”

“Futaba,” Akira deadpanned. “I’m literally coming back to Leblanc for work in two days.”

“Wait, what?” she ducked back in to reposition herself then made a show of hopping out of the car. “Why didn’t you say so? Jeez!”

A black eyebrow quirked upwards in amusement. “You thought I was quitting?”

“Well, we did talk about it,” Sojiro cut in as he haphazardly tossed a bag Akira’s way. “I still think it’d be easier for you if you got a job on campus… but you hate making things easy, huh?” the fondness in his voice was palpable.

Akira was, despite his earlier chiding of Futaba, getting a bit emotional. His living arrangement at Leblanc certainly wasn’t ideal, from an objective point of view, but that was his _home_. He’d still be working there, and he was thankful he would get to see Sojiro and Futaba so regularly, but there was still a sense of loss. Underneath all of the surface-level excitement of actually having a room with a door and a bathroom he didn’t have to fall down stairs to reach late at night, Akira was really, _really_ not looking forward to spending the night away from Leblanc. And the next night. And all the nights after that, until summer break. He did his best not to show it, though, hoping to make this easier for Futaba. Also, he was pretty sure Futaba and Sojiro had money on when he would next cry, and he really didn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction.

Futaba sauntered up behind the two of them and held her arms out, suggesting preparation for one of the big items in the back. Akira reached in and gently set down his Jack Frost plushie on top of them. She blinked one eye open at the feeling. “Wh—hey!” she moved the Jack Frost to her hand, holding it out at him. “I can carry more than this!”

Akira smirked at her. “But I want you to carry _that_ one.” Futaba huffed and motioned wildly with her hands, mouth flapping open and closed, before she took the Jack Frost in both hands and eyed it suspiciously. Finally, she conceded, pulling it close to her. “Fine. But I totally could have held more!” Akira nodded; certain she absolutely would not have carried more.

“Alright. We’ll help you pull up everything to your dorm, but after that we’re out of here. Got it?” Akira nodded again; certain they absolutely would not leave once they reached his dorm.

While walking to the dorm, the comforting sound of Futaba’s chatter in the background—commenting on every little thing they walked by—Akira spotted something in his peripheral. “Ah,” he tried to comment, but Futaba beat him to the punch. “Woah! They have a Starbucks!”

Sojiro physically recoiled, but quickly regained his composition. His aura remained unpleasant, however.

“…I don’t know if I can let you go here anymore, Akira.” Just as Akira turned to say something to Sojiro, his attention was immediately redirected to the gaining sound of clicking spokes and a soft voice calling, “Look out!” Akira backed into Futaba, who sputtered and dropped Jack Frost, barely with enough time to see a bike flash right past him. He paused, gawking (well, as much of a gawk as expression-inept Akira was capable of) at a light brown pony tail before turning his attention to Futaba. “Sorry.” His eyes skimmed her up and down to make sure he hadn’t hurt her.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for! It was that jerkwad’s fault!” She huffed and went back to dusting off Jack Frost. “I’m sorry, Akira… I got some dirt on Jack Frost.”

Akira’s mouth quirked up at Futaba’s hypocrisy. “What’d you just say about it being that jerkwad’s fault?”

“Oh! Right! It isn’t my fault, so I recant my sorry, too! Still, it sucks he got all dirty…”

“I’m afraid I’m the jerkwad,” they all jumped at a soft voice to their left. Akira head Futaba gasp and stumble a bit when she saw their assaulter. Curious about her reaction, Akira glanced up, doing his best to feign disinterest. That was, until he _saw_ the boy.

It seemed he had walked backwards on his bike to talk at a more comfortable distance, so Akira got a good look at him. His hair was tawny and a bit too long, held up in a tiny ponytail, stray strands pulled back with a headband. Akira wondered if he usually wore it down and how it would look framing his pretty face… shit, he _was_ pretty. He had striking red-brown eyes and wore a gentle smile, though his eyebrows expressed his embarrassment. Akira’s eyes raked down the boy’s body, and—had he mentioned he had walked _backwards_ on the bike? He had twisted his torso around to face them in favor of turning his entire body, so Akira got quite the eyeful of his compression shorts. Maybe a little too much of an eyeful.

When he realized his staring had been going on _way_ too long to be considered a passing glance, he snapped his eyes back up to his assaulter’s face. Akira was horrified to be greeted by a now coy expression—one brown eyebrow quirked; lips upturned in amusement. Okay, so he noticed he was checking him out. It wasn’t Akira’s fault that athletically convenient attire was also erotically convenient. Akira piled all his effort into maintaining his neutral expression. His currently occupied hands longed for his pockets—it would be a lot easier to express how absolutely unbothered he was if he could slot them away. He would have to make do with slightly concealing his face behind his belongings.

“…Uh, do you guys know each other or something? Nothing else for anyone to say?” Futaba finally cut into the tension; a brave act Akira knew she wouldn’t have been capable of just a few years prior. Akira was proud, but more so thankful to have the tense silence end.

“Oh, of course. I just wanted to say sorry for almost running you over. Are you all alright?” His sheepish smile quickly returned. “Barely!” Futaba snapped back. Akira decided to leave the conversation to her, honestly surprised she was talking so confidently to a stranger, but it was short lived—the boy’s interest in him had not ceased. To be fair, Akira’s interest in the boy wasn’t so short-lived, either. He was trying _really_ hard to not let his gaze sink.

“I’m glad you’re okay, then. You,” his gaze was affixed on Akira. Honestly, Futaba was a bit shafted. “Are you an incoming Freshman?” Akira contemplated a variety of responses, all basically variants of the same thing, but decided each one revealed too much about himself and settled on his go-to slight nod. Bike boy was not satisfied with that. “Oh, wonderful! I’ve been curious about the incoming class. I’m currently a sophomore, my—oh! My name. It’s a pleasure to meet you all, I’m Akechi Goro.” Stupid name. Stupid hair. Stupid face.

Stupid shorts.

“Kurusu Akira,” he finally responded. He motioned behind him. “This is my sister, Futaba, and my dad, Sojiro.” They each flushed at that, surprised by his wordage. “S-sister!?” he heard her whisper-scream, though—to his relief—they each let it be. “It’s great to meet you all. How kind of you to help him move in…” his eyes blew wide like he’d just had the idea of the century. “Do you need an extra hand? I could park my bike and help. It’d be the least I could do, after…”

“Running me over?” Akira was, satisfyingly, responded to with a forlorn smile.

“Yes, that.”

“Well, s’too bad, because we don’t need any help. Hurry up and despawn! This character introduction is going on _wayyy_ too long.” Akechi was taken aback by her honesty. Akira was sort of surprised, as well. She looked nervous about her words, face red, so she probably wasn’t as confident as she sounded. Akechi’s face fell flat. “It seems I’m not wanted here. My apologies.” Okay, Akira felt a little bad. Futaba actually fell for the sad face, as well, sputtering and twiddling her fingers nervously. The guy actually looked sort of regretful, too. Might as well give him a chance.

“You want to make it up to us?”

Akechi turned back to Akira, curious and hopeful.

“We own a café down in Yongen-jaya. Café Leblanc. Come down with me some time to get yourself some _real_ coffee—it isn’t far by metro.” Akechi self-consciously tried to hide his Starbucks cup—the presumed cause of the near-crash—behind one of his bike handles. “Coffee connoisseurs, hm?” He turned his torso back around, faced his handle bars and readied his bike for take-off. “I may just have to take you up on that.” Then, he was off. Akira might have savored the image of him biking away.

“…Akechi Goro, huh?” Futaba mumbled. They resumed their walking in silence for a bit. Finally, Futaba cut in, “why’d you decide to invite him to the café?”

“I thought maybe we could convert him,” Akira mused. “What do you think, boss?”

Sojiro was quiet for a moment. “…may be a lost cause,” he finalized.

Akira sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I thought it was worth a shot.”

Futaba stopped walking, allowing the two of them to lead a bit. “I dunno. I think… I think we should give him a chance.” She finally concurred, much to each of their surprise. “If he shows up to Leblanc at all.”

“…Don’t tell me you fell for the hair,” Akira teased, to Futaba’s immediate recoil. “Wh—gross, _no_ , that’s like joking about me liking _your_ stupid hair! If anything, _you_ fell for his hair! Or, hehe, maybe a bit more than just his hair…” Akira blushed and sped up his walking, and Sojiro tactfully decided to say nothing in this conversation.

They returned to a comfortable silence, Futaba humming the theme of one of her shows, before Sojiro finally spoke up.

“Hey kid.” Akira glanced back at him just enough to indicate he was listening. “If you uh… wanted to call me dad again, I, y’know. Wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh! I totally forgot about that! Should I call you big brother Akira?” there was a teasing tone to her voice, but it was blatantly obvious she was up for the idea.

“We’ll see,” was all Akira had to say, unseen smile on his face as he kept his gaze ahead.

\---------------------------------------------------

“Doesn’t look like the roomie is here yet!” Futaba exclaimed as they entered the empty dorm. Honestly, the emptiness was a bit unnerving. “What’d you say the guy’s name was?” Akira hummed thoughtfully as he set his things on the counter. “…I think it was Yusaku-“

“Maezawa?”

“Fujiki!?”

Akira shrugged. “I really can’t remember. I’ll text you a photo of him if he doesn’t get here before you guys leave.”

“Alright! I’ll be sure to show dad!” To that, Sojiro sharply turned around and began stocking the shelves in the kitchen with the food he’d so begrudgingly piled into Akira’s things despite his protest. They could see the red in his ears, but the pair decided to let him feel inconspicuous with a mutual glance.

“Whatever happened to _don’t expect us to stay too long_?” Akira chided. Sojiro stopped and stiffened, huffed, and went back to his work. Futaba wasn’t really going out of her way to help, instead opting to investigate the dorm room, snapping various photos of it.

Now that he was starting to settle in a little bit, he had a chance to investigate his new home. It was inverted to the one he had seen when touring the campus, with the bedrooms to the left and the bathroom and linen closet off to the far right. The room opened into a small kitchenette which expanded out into a shared living space. Provided was a couch, a table, a small flimsy looking TV stand, and four chairs. He grabbed some of his things and met Futaba in his now-bedroom, where she was currently tossing and turning on his bed. “No, this won’t do,” she huffed. “We have to get you a mattress topper. No, no—we should stack mattress toppers. 25% more comfort for each topper!”

Akira paused in the doorway, making a production out of his mental math.

“How about we just spend a little extra for a 50% booster? Then I’ll only need one.”  
Her eyes narrowed. “Have you even been paying attention? Comfort stacks. To forego the 25% topper for the 50% topper, you’d be missing out on 75% total comfort.” She slid off the bed, sighing dramatically. “I swear, Akira. You can’t even do simple math?” Then, she took his place in the doorway, swiveling around to face him where he now stood in the middle of the room. She reached over to the dresser by the door and set down Jack Frost, then beamed at him. “Well, my work here is done! Good luck!” with a flourish of orange, she joined Sojiro in the kitchen. Akira almost told himself he was irritated by her lack of help, but a part of him knew he preferred it over her snapping in half trying to lift something too heavy. For Futaba, it would be all or nothing, and he was relieved that she had picked _nothing_ in this instance.

The next time Futaba returned to his room, he was smoothing out his one comforter at the bed, the rest of his knickknacks in their place, strewn about the room without any real order, but tidy nonetheless. Most of it was just stuff he and Futaba had scored in Akibahara, and he really hadn’t brought a lot—his old TV had stayed at Sojiro’s for the meantime (he’d get it next time), so really, the most notable thing in the room was the relic of a laptop he had excavated from a thrift store.

“Oooh, done already?” she toddled into the room with her usual odd gait, eyes wandering as though there was much of anything to see.

“I didn’t have much.”

“I guess it just feels like a lot more in the attic?”

“That attic is 99% Sojiro’s boxes of dust and 1% Kurusu Akira,” he mumbled in her direction, but it still reached Sojiro, who had just been making his way over to the room. “Hey! Be grateful.” The older man leaned against the doorway, giving the room a similar look-over. “You really don’t have much, huh…”

“More room for college memories, I guess.”

“Or memorabilia! Let’s go to the school store~” purple eyes turned up hopefully in Sojiro’s direction.

“We’re not going to the school store.” If Sojiro was caught drinking out of a “PROUD _PRIDE CRUISE UNIVERSITY_ DAD” mug the next time Akira went to Leblanc, he wouldn’t say anything.

Not directly to Sojiro, anyways.

Akira walked their way, ushering them out of his room to say goodbye to them in the kitchen. “You’re workin’ Tuesday, right?” Sojiro’s voice was a little shaky, but he held true to his stern demeanor.

“Yep. I’ll see you guys in just a couple days.”

Futaba looked back and forth between the two of them, before sighing and reaching her arms out to bridge their gap. “You guys are hopeless!” grabbing at their shirts, she flung the three of them all together crudely, pulling her arms back and wrapping them around each of them. “Just say we’ll miss one another! This totally sucks!”

Akira conceded before Sojiro, who was still flustered, arms drawn upwards. Akira’s arms wrapped around the two of them, one hand twisted around to simultaneously pat Futaba’s head. “I’ll miss you guys. I’ll miss Leblanc, and the attic, boxes of dust and all.” He confessed, and Sojiro pulled a hand up to the bridge of his nose in faux irritation, looking to the side. “Kid…” the fingers pinching at his nose swiftly moved to wipe at his own eyes, adjusted his glasses, and finally reciprocated the hug. At that point, the hug had gone on a bit too long for Futaba, who basically exploded out of it. “Okay, okay! That’s enough! I’m sad, but we _will_ see you Tuesday!”

Akira wore a goofy grin on his face and didn’t even bother to suppress it. “Let me walk you guys back to the car,” he offered, or at least that’s what he was _going_ to offer, until his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone struggling with a key in the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Akira's roommate as well as a fellow Pride Cruise student in town, and another chance encounter with a certain brown haired boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS WAS A COUPLE DAYS LATE i got preoccupied preparing and traveling for a concert and left my laptop at home but we're back now!!! sorry guys lol. i hope you like this update!

…and the intruder kept struggling with the key. For an uncomfortable amount of time.

Did they give this kid the wrong key? Was this even his roommate?

Akira sighed and went to unlock the door for him, but accidentally pulled the boy forward with the door. He leapt back out of the room as quickly as he had been pulled in, pulling himself up and into the stiffest _casual pose_ Akira had ever seen, arms drawn back and back straight. “Ah,” the boy commented. Then, he smiled softly, taking Akira off guard—he would’ve expected the guy to feel embarrassed. “It seems I’ve struck mercy. I wasn’t sure I’d have managed on my own.”

“You’re uh, Yu-“

“Yusuke Kitagawa,” he bowed as he said it, then sprung right back up like an inflatable. “Kurusu Akira, I presume?”

Akira flushed, realizing he had started with Kitagawa’s given name. In all honestly, he wouldn’t have even gotten the given name right. At least he hadn’t mentioned the slip-up—

“Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but were you attempting to refer to me by my given name?” Oh, never mind. So much for merciful ignorance.

“Yea, sorry, I—”

“May I call you Akira, then?”

Well, he was a bit taken aback, but he supposed this was as good of an excuse as any. “I mean, sure.” He paused. “Yusuke,” testing out the name. He was glad he didn’t have to say Kitagawa every time.

Yusuke’s eyes crinkled; mouth upturned. His head turned to the other side, and he repositioned, facing Akira at another not-quite-head-on angle. “Excellent. I presumed, perhaps, a designation such as that of “roommates” may require more immediate intimacy, but I was not sure how to approach it.” A nod, eyes closing. “Yes, this is good.”

Okay, this guy was a _freak_. Was he a lovable freak or an uncomfortable freak? Only time would tell.

Yusuke turned around to gather his things. His head remained level, swiveling independently of the rest of his body like yet remaining level. It made Akira think of a chicken’s head tracking. “Ah, do you need hel-“

“That won’t be necessary,” he commented as he bent over, picking up his belongings shortly out of view. Then, he turned, and—ah.

“You sure you don’t need any help?” Akira asked, peering out the door, looking for, obviously, more of Yusuke’s possessions. “Hm? No, this is all.”

“You left the rest at home?”

“No, I couldn’t. I took everything.”

Clutched to his chest were, apparently, the only earthly possessions he owned: A three pack of canvases, an ornate paint set that was likely the most expensive item in the handful, one almost empty bottle of shampoo, two neatly folded pairs of pants and the shirts to go with them.

Akira saw no underwear, socks, other hygienic products, _food…_ where the hell was this guy from?

“Are you homeless?” Futaba blurted out, and Sojiro sharply turned to her. She clasped her hand over her mouth to stop herself from saying anything else rude. Yusuke didn’t seem offended, though, and merely repositioned the items he was holding as he thought about the question.

“I suppose so. Or, I was, until I was offered the brilliant opportunity at this university.” Another gentle smile played at his lips as he stepped past them into the room and set his things down. “I hope not to impose; I merely desire to elaborate on my answer. Do you mind if I get a little personal?” Futaba and Akira eagerly nodded, each one snoops like it was a hobby or a personality trait. Sojiro didn’t seem quite as interested, but let the kid say his piece.

“Very well. It’s not a long story. You see, my mother died when I was very young. She was all I had, so I was moved into a foster care system. In that, I was moved around most of my life, slated to phase out when I turned 18. However, as a pursuer of the arts, I had yet to secure myself an occupation. It was then that I met Madarame, the Fine Arts department head here at Pride Cruise. Madarame sought me out at one of my school’s galleries and informed me he had been associates with my mother and had been looking for me for the past few years. I could not remember much of my youth, but he claimed to have known me as a child. It so happened that he was also one of my favorite artists, the creator of my favorite painting, The _Sayuri_ … Ah, one moment.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a smartphone. So, he did at least have a phone… after just two taps, he held the phone up to the two of them. It was a painting of a pale, black haired woman, looking down thoughtfully into the purple mist which shrouded her. It felt remnant of Edo period woodblock paintings, if a bit truer to life than the style of that time. Then, he withdrew it. “It’s nothing compared to seeing the true item… but still, it enraptures me so. I was interested in this university before meeting Madarame personally, as I was aware of his presence here, as well as the fact that _Sayuri_ is located on this campus. However, I never thought I would have the opportunity to attend, as it is far too expensive. Before I was thrown out of foster care, Madarame offered me the opportunity to attend school here on scholarship as long as I enroll in the Fine Arts program—which is just as I had intended to do.” He smiled at them warmly. “Truly, I have been blessed… but, outside of my residence here, I have no where else to stay, no.” He then picked his items up and went to his respective room in the dorm. Distantly, Akira heard him comment about how spectacularly spacious the room was, though he simultaneously cursed the window placement in the same sentence.

Okay, not much time was needed to evaluate him. Yusuke was totally a lovable freak.

“Mmm… I like him!” Futaba whispered a bit too loudly, and Sojiro nodded in support of the statement.  

“Yeah, he seems interesting. I doubt I’ll be getting bored. And based on what he said about places to stay, I won’t be getting lonely, either.” He wrapped his arms around the two of them and gave them one last squeeze. “Now, like I was saying, let me walk you guys to the—”

“Akira?” Yusuke had padded out of his room, somehow silent in his loafers. They all turned over to look at him, and he looked particularly unapologetic for interrupting a family moment. Well, maybe he didn’t really understand family moments…

“Yea, Yusuke?”

“Would you happen to have any spare sheets and blankets? I most enjoy the feeling of rayon, but I suppose silk would do just as well.” The polite smile punctuating such an entitled statement clued Akira in on how financially hopeless this guy was. “I think you have your hands busy here, kid.” Sojiro snorted, then pulled out his wallet, forking over a couple ten thousand-yen notes. Akira glanced up at him, shocked, and Sojiro nervously scratched at his neck. “Hey, hey, don’t look at me that way. It’s a bonus for the hard work these past few weeks.” His voice dropped a bit lower. “Get the kid some bedding. Polyester—he is _not_ getting rayon sheets.”

Sojiro turned and opened the door, crossing over the threshold, Futaba following behind him. He turned to Akira to say something but stopped when he saw Akira’s expression.

“Thanks. Uh.” Akira mirrored Sojiro’s neck scratching habit. “Dad.” It was incredibly quiet, but made both men flush bright red. Futaba grinned and grasped Sojiro’s arm. “Jeez, if you force it like that, it doesn’t mean anything,” Sojiro gruffed, adjusting his glasses, but his smile was audible in his tone of voice.

“Getting called dad twice in one day? You sure are lucky, huh, Dad? Oh! That’s three!” Futaba teased, and this time Sojiro finally turned away, not able to handle the emotional overload. “Alright, alright, we’re heading out.” He cautioned a glance at Akira from the side. “Be at work on time.”

Akira smiled warmly. “Always.” He watched the two of them walk away for a moment, before finally closing the door. The airy wistfulness encompassing him faded immediately when he turned and saw Yusuke still waiting there, stiff as a bored. “Oh. Right. We’ll have to go to the store.”

Yusuke looked a little nervous for once, stony exterior cracking slightly. “I don’t have any money…” Akira sighed with a smile and pocketed the bills Sojiro had given him, savoring the feeling of them in his pocket, knowing how fleeting of a feeling it was. “I do. But don’t get too used to it—we _have_ to get you a job.” Yusuke nodded and they started out the door.

There was a shopping strip near the university, and they found themselves there in a short walk. “This’ll be convenient for groceries,” Akira commented. Yusuke hummed, then, after an uncomfortable pause, decided to speak what was on his mind. “Groceries… as in, food?” Akira didn’t even bother turning to face Yusuke. “You can eat my food, Yusuke.”

“Ah, your generosity knows no bounds, Akira.” A pause. “Except, perhaps, rayon.”

Why did Yusuke have to be the biggest mooch on the planet? Better question, why did Akira want to give him _everything he owned_? Is this how he had survived so far? Some sort of supernatural ability to draw other people’s belongings to him? Akira should be irritated—he just met this guy and he’s already basically his main provider. And yet… he found himself smiling, just a little bit.

He could tell Yusuke was going to be a valuable friend and an entertaining roommate.

Once his smile faded, he turned back to address Yusuke, and—

No one was there.

He had lost his Yusuke.

“Yusuke?” he called out, only loud enough to be heard if he was somehow missing him nearby. No response. Akira _definitely_ wasn’t roaming the streets yelling for Yusuke like he was a lost dog. So, he started walking down the road, leering into every window he walked by and scanning every store for his roommate. Suddenly, a familiar bike caught his attention—a commuting bike with bright red tubing, though it now sported an attachable basket at its front. So distracted was he that he promptly ran into a wall—

“What the eff?! Watch it!”

A wall that could talk. Akira turned sharply, greeted by poorly bleached blonde hair and small brown eyes crinkled further into an irritated expression. Akira may have been a little intimidated were there not a helmet-haired idiot poised a few inches above and behind the rude stranger.

“My Yusuke,” he muttered thoughtlessly. The blonde sputtered. “Wh-your—oh, shit. This guy yours?” He didn’t bother to look at Yusuke, merely pointing a thumb where he assumed he was standing. He was only slightly off. The man backed out of Akira’s personal space some, pulling to the right to pass Yusuke. He then firmly grasped Yusuke’s forearms and pushed him toward Akira. “There. That your dad or whatever?”

“You… said I was your dad?”

Yusuke gestured vaguely behind him, rotating his shoulders around. He seemed insistent on not just facing someone head on. “That was his word choice. I referred to you as my guide.”

“Yeah, whatever. Everything good? Not lost any more? You’ll stop bugging me?” Yusuke nodded before turning to face him. “Yes, thank you for your assistance.”

The boy huffed and crossed his arms, looking to the side a bit. “S’no problem. Maybe don’t latch onto someone like a duckling whenever you get lost, though.”

A store bell jingled.

Bad bleach job turned to leave, but flinched and paused when a voice apparently familiar to everyone except for Yusuke rang out. “Kurusu?” The soft boy—er, the soft _voice_ —inquired, rearing around from the store front to get a better look at him. “Ah, it is. What a coincidence we would meet again so soon.”

“You live on campus, then?”

“Hm?” Akechi’s eyes widened in surprise at the suggestion.

“I mean… I might be totally off,” Akira scratched at his neck and looked up to the sky at nothing in particular, suddenly a bit embarrassed by his assumption. “But that’s your bike over there, right? I noticed there were groceries in the basket—” well, apples and some stationary. Barely passed as groceries. “and, if you lived somewhere else, it’d be quite the coincidence of you to be grocery shopping so close to your university during move-in weekend.”

“Mm, quite the detective, are you?” Akira’s eyes jumped to some peripheral movement. The blonde boy remained nearby but was pretending to be particularly interested in some fences across the way. His head was blatantly angled their way. _Not inconspicuous at all_. His eyes came back to Akechi, who he now noted had changed into a button up and slacks. For what? Shopping? His hair was still up in a small ponytail, but with the headband removed, Akira could see how his bangs framed his face. So his hair was just weirdly long in the back, then? What, had he just grown it out from a short length and never bothered to level it? Stupid, stupid hair.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he finally responded. “Just a silly assumption.”

“Hm.” Akechi crossed his arms and smiled, looking up at Akira through his bangs. “You got me. Yes, I live on campus, though not in Village A.”

“B, then?” a head shake.

“Oh, so you squat in the Starbucks after-hours.” Akechi laughed softly at that, putting up a hand to swat away at the idea. “No, I wish. My arrangement is a bit lonelier. There is a staff residence building tucked at the far edge of the campus, near the president’s office.” The smile became a bit forlorn. “Single apartments, there, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, really? Lonely, huh…” his eyes drifted over to Yusuke. “I guess I can understand. You’re missing out on an essential part of the college experience.” Yusuke had totally not been paying attention, confused by Akira’s sudden eye contact. Akira quickly moved his eyes back to Akechi.

“Wait, staff residences? I thought you were a student.” He looked absurdly young… Akira was about to ask him how he’d located the fountain of youth but was halted by a… gloved hand? How had he not noticed that? He had been wearing biker gloves, earlier, but to just wear leather gloves for no reason on a sunny day?

“No, no, nothing like that. I do work on campus for one of the offices, which is partially why I was able to strike such a deal—none of the other staff live on campus, as it’s really only for special cases of difficult commutes. I was accepted into the school and managed to seal an arrangement to live in staff housing for free. The building wasn’t being used at all before, so there was really no harm in putting it to use.”

“All that trouble to go live on your own? You can just move out of that and get a roommate any time you want, you know.”

Akechi nodded. There was that forlorn look in his eyes again, one of resignation. “It’s convenient for my job. It’s quite the large campus, and those residences are tucked behind all the staff offices. Also, it gives me more incentive to use my bike when going to my classes.” So he prioritized work convenience over class convenience, huh? “Any more questions for me, officer?” It felt totally backwards for people to be joking about _Akira_ being the officer, especially from the guy with the good-boy chestnut brown sort-of-mullet who was dressed business casual for grocery shopping. Also, leather gloves?

“No, that will be all,” he teased back. “Stay out of trouble.” Akechi grinned, baring teeth, and bowed, carrying on their joke. He then strode over to his bike, swinging his leg around and kicking up the kickstand, placing whatever he had bought in the previous store in his basket. “See you at Pride Cruise, Kurusu.” He called out fondly, kicking up the bike and riding away.

Once he left, Akira turned to find the boy that had been occupying his mind for most of that conversation approaching him once again. “So? What do you want?” he asked. The blonde looked warily in Akechi’s direction. “So you’re Pride Cruise students, then?”

“Hm? Yea.” Akira glanced up at Yusuke, who nodded in affirmation. The blonde grinned wide. “Me too,” he mumbled, almost a little too excited about it. The look was quickly wiped off of his face when he remembered whatever it was he wanted from them. “Listen. I can’t tell you who to hang out with, and I _hate_ rumors, and I’m not trying to spread nothin’. Just… be careful. With Akechi.” Akira’s brow quirked. “You know him?”

“Not… personally. He doesn’t know my name. Honestly, I’m a bit surprised you never heard of him, lookin’ up the campus and all…”

Akira… hadn’t really researched Pride Cruise. Yusuke looked just as clueless as he did.

“Really? Didn’t know his name at all? Woah, that’s so surprising! Well, he’s a bit… famous, I guess? So everything about the school tends to talk about him.”

“…Famous?” For what? Did he do something bad? Nervousness built in his stomach.

“Well, first off, he’s one of those annoying uh… video bloggers? One of my friends loves ‘m. I don’t get the appeal, seems boring as hell, if you ask me.” Akira snorted.

“Thanks for warning us that he _vlogs_. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for any hidden cameras.”

“What is a video blog?” Yusuke inquired, looking between the two of them. Neither offered him an answer.

“Hey—no, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just elaborating on how exactly he’s—” finger quotes—“ _famous_.”

“Actually, would you happen to know his channel name?” It’d be great teasing material, Akira decided. Given that Akechi had any shame.

“Uhhhh,” the boy paused. “No. But I can ask Ann, she’s subbed to him. Wait, actually—that wasn’t my point! Well, first of all, he works in president Masayoshi’s office. He’s, like, his right-hand-man.” Akira whistled. “Sounds like a pretty good deal to me. That’ll look great on a resume.” Shot the guy a look. “There a problem with having a job?”

“Let me finish! Geez.” He glanced around suspiciously. “There’s some shifty stuff going on at Pride Cruise. It’s the closest place with a kinesiology major, and I got in on a good scholarship, but… they’ve got a weird history. With drop outs…” Okay, Akira’s curiosity was piqued. This guy may be a conspiracy theorist, but he was an interesting one.

“A video blog… an entirely new medium,” Yusuke mused, chuckling to himself in his lonely quest of self-discovery to comprehend a vlog. “Fascinating…” He seemed to be doing fine, so Akira left him to his own devices.

“A lot of people drop out their first semester at Pride Cruise. They claim it’s because it’s more difficult than they could have comprehended, since it’s a high-end university or whatever, but I did some research on the kids that dropped out, and…” his face fell and his voice got quiet. He turned to the side, looking away from Akira. “There’s a trend of them tryina… off themselves… or just, they do poorly out of Pride Cruise in general.” Akira’s mouth slanted. “Well, that’s… really upsetting, but… are you implying the school did that to them somehow?”

He responded with a shrug. “I dunno. Just… what school has a track record like _that_?”

“I can envision the words flashing on the screen… emotions and situations portrayed so fluidly. Yes… this must be… _the video blog!!!_ ” Okay, Yusuke was getting a bit carried away. He’d have to show him what a vlog actually was later. Maybe if he hunted down Akechi’s vlog channel…

“Wait, what does this have to do with Akechi?”

“Oh, shit, right. Well, he… I noticed on his Instagram, he has a trend of having befriended the kids who end up dropping out. And the fact that he works under Masayoshi…”

“I mean, he seems like a pretty involved on-campus type of guy. What exactly are you accusing him of?”

The guy huffed and turned to the side, considering his next words. “Just… be careful. If there is something going on and you somehow get pushed to tryina drop out, don’t, aight? Just tryina watch out for a fellow Pride Cruise sufferer,” He got out his phone and checked something, then held his other hand out to Akira. “Here, I’ll put Ann’s info in your phone so she can send you the link.” Akira nodded and offered his phone. “Isn’t it a little weird I know your friend’s name before I know yours? Have her number, even.” Brown eyes widened as he gasped and almost dropped their phones. Akira was very relieved he caught them. “Oh, man, I’m sorry! I didn’t even think about that… I’m Sakamoto Ryuji. Don’t bother with the family name. Here, I’ll go ahead and put my number in, too.” He turned to Yusuke. “Give me yours, I’ll do the same.”

“Ryuji… I’m Kurusu Akira. I guess you can call me Akira.” Everyone here was super familiar, apparently.

“And I, Yusuke. Akira, it seems we’re gathering quite the amount of acquaintances.” He looked over fondly before handing Ryuji his phone, and Akira nodded. “It’s a bit much so quickly, though…” he mumbled. “Aaaaand… there! I texted both of us with your phones, too, so we have your numbers. Hold on,” Ryuji tapped away, and Akira jumped when his phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at the message and his eyebrows lowered. It was a selfie of Ryuji and, presumably, Ann. “Thanks for the… selfie of you and your girlfriend,” by the sound Ryuji had made, Akira had just punched him in the gut. “Wh—no—my _friend_ , dude, she’s my _friend_ , that’s so gross, holy _shit_!” Akira waved a hand at him. “My bad, sorry, sorry.”

“I went ahead and sent you that for our avatar photos! And…” with a cocky grin, Ryuji held his phone out and snapped a surprise photo of Akira. Then, he held it up to Yusuke to do the same. Yusuke seemed a bit more prepared and even held up a peace sign, though Akira doubted it would actually show up in the photo with how far he had it held from his body. Yusuke then looked down at the text message he had received and grimaced. “Do you have no photos with better lighting?” Ryuji glared at him, and Akira felt compelled to justify his statement, like he was a rude child that needed to be explained. “He’s a fine arts major.” Ryuji laughed a bit at that. “That explains it! I thought he was just a weirdo.” Well, he’s both, but whatever.

It was Ryuji’s phone’s turn to buzz. “Ope, that’s Ann,” he mumbled. “Gotta go help her and Shiho move in… I’ll see you on campus, okay? I’ll text you to hang out. And again…” His voice lowered, his hands stuffed in his pockets along with his phone. “Be careful.”

The two of them watched him walk away. Then, suddenly, something struck Yusuke, and he clasped his hands together. “Oh! Akira! I’ve just remembered. There was something I noticed when you lost me—” when he got lost, he means. “A grocery item I must have. Follow me.” Yusuke was suddenly taking off in wide strides and Akira found himself jogging to keep up with him. Finally, they reached Yusuke’s destination. The taller boy eagerly leaned over a… lobster tank… like it was a treasure chest. “Uh.” Akira managed, but that was the most he could get out. Yusuke turned to him, eyes shining. “I would like as many lobsters as you can afford, Akira.” He stated it like it was a _given_ that Akira would do this for him. “Su-“ wait, no, don’t give in to his weird freak charm, sensible, sensible—one glance at the price banner pinned above the tank got the right answer out. 5,000 yen each!? “No.”

Yusuke didn’t fuss, merely straightened up and hung his head slightly. “Ah.” Turning back to Akira, he sighed. “So your generosity reaches it limit at both rayon and lobster. Such odd standards…”

“Yusuke, what would you even do with them?”

Yusuke looked at him like he was the most foolish man in the world. Suddenly, Akira felt very self-conscious. Was it just something obvious? Buying a lobster just to prepare and eat still felt ridiculous, particularly with their financial situation… “I intend to study them. I assure you, they would be cherished.”

Akira was exhausted. “So, like, what, pets?”

“No.” A grin. “My muses…”

Akira was so exhausted. “I mean, if you weren’t going to eat them, you can’t just let them die for no reason. You’d have to get them a tank and take care of them.”

“I…” Yusuke looks at the lobster tank, then back to Akira. “Had not considered that. You are a beacon of second opinions.” Akira sighed. “We got your bedding. Let’s head back.” To that, Yusuke conceded, and they made their way back to campus.

As they walked to the dorm, Akira peered across at the lonely corner of the campus, noting a small red speck on the distant white building.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ann and Ryuji make a group chat and lure Yusuke and Akira to a "lifewithcrow" viewing party!

When they reached the dorm, Akira helped Yusuke apply his fitted sheet to his bed. Just as they finished wrangling the thing, each of their phones buzzed. Then they buzzed again… and once more. Actually, they both sounded like they were _breaking_. Yusuke’s longer arm reached his phone first, and he clicked on the display. “Ryuji and his friend are sending me many messages, for some reason.” Akira’s face twisted in confusion as he took his own phone to observe what exactly was happening.

“Oh. It’s a group chat.”

On his display was a group chat named “(p)ride or die cruise” that was currently being affronted with, in all honesty, mediocre memes and various blurry chaotic selfies of Ann, Ryuji, and (presumably) aforementioned roommate of Ann, Shiho.

She looked like a nice girl. Akira felt sort of bad for her, actually.

Yusuke: What is the meaning of this?

Akira smirked as the message appeared on his phone, glancing up at Yusuke under his brow. Yusuke was now scrolling through the messages, squinting his eyes.

Ryuji: o shit FINALLY

Ann: Hey, nice to meet you!

Ann: Welcome to (p)ride or die cruise!

Akira: Nice name.

Ryuji: akira!

Ann: AH

Ann: I forgot to send you the link. You’re the guy who wanted it right?

Akira: What?

Ann: Akechi’s social media

Akira: Oh.

Akira: Yeah, I guess.

Ann: Uno momento!

He felt a little creepy when it was phrased as simply as _Akechi’s social media_. Was he sort of stalking the guy? If he really was a small celebrity, he supposed it wasn’t a big deal.

“Oh, how unfortunate.” Yusuke’s face fell but remained fixated on his phone screen. “It appears their dog died… what an odd thing to so suddenly put into the chat. Do you think they’re trying to be casual about it?”

Curious, Akira scrolled up to see what exactly Yusuke was talking about. Once he found the message in question, he had to summon every ounce of power he had to not drop dead on the spot, or explode, or _something_.

Yusuke was so funny.

It was one of the many blurry selfies of which Yusuke was, surprisingly, putting the time in to examine one by one—but Ryuji had added a caption to it, that said:

“ _Our dog, Brian Griffin, is dead._ ”

Just as Akira was about to open his mouth and try and explain the situation through choked out laughter, the new message notification popped up once more.

Yusuke: My condolences.

Yusuke: Regarding your dog.

Ryuji: what?

Yusuke: Brian Griffin

Yusuke: I am sure you enriched his life, as unfortunately limited as a dog’s may be.

Ryuji: holy shit.

“I’ve never owned a pet. I suppose I should be grateful to not have experienced the misfortune of losing a beloved companion, and yet… I cannot help but feel that it could be a valuable experience.” He finally looked up from his phone. “Wouldn’t you agree, Aki—are you alright!?”

Akira was red-faced, both hands clasped over his mouth, phone long-since discarded. He nodded shakily, though his hands remained firmly planted. Yusuke rushed over to him, his hands swirling around his general vicinity as he tried to do _something_ , before settling on placing a supportive hand on Akira’s shoulder and nodding knowingly. “Akira… have you… lost a pet before?” Akira viciously shook his head, alarming Yusuke into withdrawing his hand and stepping back slightly.

“Just…” he wheezed. “Emotional.”

Yusuke nodded, though one eyebrow quirked upward. “I mean no offense by this, but you didn’t strike me as the type to be so easily affected.”

“Well, Hachikō always makes me cry, so.”

“It is quite the moving story.” Yusuke’s head then whipped from Akira, to his phone, to the wall, back to Akira, and at last settled on the ceiling.

“Perhaps… acquiring pet lobsters would not be so bad.”

“Wh—really? That’ll be, like, super expensive. You’d have to not only afford the lobster, but the tank, regularly afford food, tank maintenance… I don’t even know how to raise a lobster. Are animals even allowed?”

Yusuke nodded. “I checked the university website. Marine life is allowed as long as it doesn’t require any complex installation.”

“Couldn’t you get, like… a crayfish?”

“Crayfish, lovely as they may be, are not of the silhouette I desire.” Yusuke turned back to Akira. “Imagine… the lifespan of a lobster can last decades… to have such a longstanding muse, an outlet of passion…” When did Yusuke research all of this?

Akira was going to say something to argue further but was interrupted by his phone buzzing. He glanced at the message.

Ryuji: you should’ve told me yusuke was a comedic genius

Ryuji: ive been laughing this whole time

_He isn’t. He’s a comedic idiot._

Akira second-guessed his methods. Perhaps the prospect of a pet lobster could be a motivator?

“You’d have to get a job.”

Yusuke barely nodded and turned away. “I considered that, as well. However, art is incredibly time consuming, and I am worried pursuing other activities would take up too much time. I cannot disappoint Madarame after the opportunity I have been given.”

“What about, like… an art job?”

Yusuke turned back quickly; eyes wide. “As in, commission work? There would be no passion. I must create my ideas… an instructed artist is caged.”

“No, just…” he realized he had never seen this guy’s work before. What if it was super shitty? “Could I see some of your pieces?”

“I do not currently have them physically. Madarame agreed to hold onto them for me while I was traveling here. I do have some photos, though.” He went to his phone gallery and simply offered the entire thing to Akira. Allowing someone you met that day to look through your phone gallery wasn’t something Akira would be bold enough to do, but he figured Yusuke had nothing incriminating in his gallery.

“They’re scattered throughout,” he explained. Akira nodded and scrolled through the gallery, tapping the ones that looked like paintings.

They were _really_ good. Akira would describe them as “surrealist landscapes,” though there were realist paintings mixed in that were equally as impressive.

“Yea, okay, you could _totally_ sell your paintings, Yusuke.”

“Sell… my originals? You think people would be interested?” Akira nodded hastily, handing the phone back to Yusuke.

“There is… an opportunity here; a gallery hosted in the first half of the semester to debut new students in the program. I was not going to offer any of my works for auction, as I did not feel worthy…”

“No, you should do it! You might even be able to afford the lobster afterwards.”

Yusuke’s eyes lit up. “You… you think so?”

Akira nodded furiously. “Yes, absolutely. I think you should go for it.”

He responded with a firm nod and a newly determined face. “I may just try.”

They were broken out of their motivational moment by the group chat.

**Ann** : Okay! So, Ryuji and I were talking, and he insisted that instead of me just linking you his channel he wants you guys to come over for a “Roast Sesh”

**Ryuji** : theyre so embarrassing, dude

**Ryuji** : and hard to watch. i dont want you to go through that alone

**Yusuke** : I presume food will be involved?

**Ryuji** : once again. what?

**Yusuke** : There were mentions of a roast?

**Akira** : I guess we can come over.

**Akira** : What’s your room number?

**Ann** : 235

**Ann** : Third floor.

**Ryuji** : yea it was a pain in the ass helping them move

**Ann** : He’s an athlete! He has no excuse!

**Akira** : We’ll be there in a bit.

“Alright,” he mumbled, pocketing his phone. “You good to go over there, Yusuke?”

“Hm? Yes, I suppose so. It’s a bit sudden, but if they’ll be feeding us, I should be fine.”

Maybe Akira should feed Yusuke before they went over there. Or, well, actually—he might be able to get away with making _them_ feed Yusuke tonight. So, he played along.

“True. Let’s head over, then.”

“I feel like we’re breaking an essential rule here,” Akira commented, motioning towards a lopsided arrangement of mismatched letters on the wall that spelled out _No BoYS AIIOWeD!_

Ann shrugged as she moved out of the way, gesturing them further in. “It’s not really a rule, but more of like… a feeling?” she explained, then concluded that was good enough, nodding to herself.

Akira’s eyes scanned the room. There was an eager-looking Ryuji beaming up at them from behind a laptop. He waved. Akira didn’t wave back, instead turning to the small black-haired girl delicately poised on the couch, cupping a bowl of ramen. “You must be Shiho?”

“Ah, um, yes. I guess that’s me.”

Now, he examined the room. It already looked like a home, though he felt he could easily discern who owned what. They had moved in the non-provided appliances, and Akira made note to ask to use their microwave sometimes. There was a mishmash of traditional Japanese items, American-style utensils and dinnerware, and gaudy Sanrio themed utensils. Everything told him after having seen the two girls that Ann brought the gaudy and American things and Shiho brought the Japanese items.

Maybe stereotyping was bad, because as soon as he came to such a conclusion, he saw Shiho take a bite of her ramen with Gudetama chopsticks. Or maybe they just married their utensils?

Turning his attention back to the kitchen, he took note of a wide array of Hostess snack cake boxes lined up neatly against the microwave. Why not put those in the cupboards? Unless those were overflow… Akira resisted the temptation to investigate their cupboards, because it’d be rude.

“You have quite a lot of desserts,” Yusuke commented, eyes darting back and forth the inside of their pantry. Akira curiously glanced over his shoulder, and wow, yea. One entire shelf of the pantry was occupied by sweets, or sweet recipes. Below that was instant ramen, boxed instant rice, instant curry pouches… okay, he was concerned about their eating habits.

Akira quickly covered up his snooping by pretending to chastise Yusuke, leaning over him and closing the pantry with little resistance. “Yusuke, that’s rude.”

“Is it? I thought we were planning to eat here.”

“Wh—no, Yusuke, that wasn’t a given.”

A small frown tugged at the corners of Yusuke’s lips. “But we discussed it beforehand.”

“Are you seriously that hungry?”

“It’s okay!” Ann finally cut in, squeezing between the two of them and re-opening the pantry. “You can have something. I got a bit carried away getting groceries…” she turned to Yusuke. Wrong move. “What do you want?”

One long arm reached over Ann and promptly began piling food into his other arm. First an instant curry pouch, then rice, canned udon, and finally, three purin cups. Ann gawked at how much he had grabbed, but he paid her no mind as he went to lay it out on the counter. He turned to her and pointed at the cake boxes on the counter. “I can take these, too?” she paused, mouth slightly ajar, then offered a small nod. Yusuke offered her not even a thank you as he promptly tore into two boxes and added some of the packages to his pile.

“Dude, do you feed him?” Ann whispered to him, though it wasn’t really that quiet.

“Man, I think you’ve been neglecting your Yusuke.” Ryuji added, much less concerned and much louder.

“He must have quite the appetite…” Shiho quietly added, looking down into her small bowl of ramen.

Finally, Yusuke swiveled to face Akira. “Could you prepare these? I suppose I can persist on the prepackaged desserts until you are finished.”

“No, he’s just a total brat.” Akira asserted, though not really in protest, as he was marching over to prepare Yusuke a plate. What he _did_ put a stop to was Yusuke eating cakes and purin before eating a proper meal, so he promptly tore a snack cake out of his grasp. “And no, you’re going to sit and wait and appreciate the instant meal I prepare you. You’ll get sick if you eat this stuff first.” Yusuke looked a bit flabbergasted, but quickly regained his composure. “You… you confuse me, Akira.” And with that, he turned and sat in the nearest chair, crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Hey, uh, mom?” Ryuji called in his direction. “I’m sorta hungry too.”

“Hey, it’s my food! I deserve a plate!”

“I already ate, don’t worry about me.”

Akira didn’t turn to look at them, quietly stewing in his own rage. Had he already solidified his position as the group mom? God dammit.

“You’re my only relief, Shiho.” He concluded as he turned to get more ingredients out of the pantry.

“Thank youuuuuuu!” Ann and Ryuji cheered in unison. Yusuke offered no such gratitude, opting instead to stare absentmindedly at the décor. Akira sighed as he grabbed a curry pouch, shaking his head. He was starting to feel a bit like Sojiro.

 

Finally, once all their plates were prepared and they sat down to eat, Ryuji grabbed the laptop he had been cradling and positioned it at an awkward enough angle for everyone to see it, but not see it well. “Okay, okay, time for the main event!”

“While we eat?”

“Nothing like some entertainment and TV,” he responded with a grin, then clicked the first of many tabs he had prepared. They were greeted by the opening frame of a ten-minute video. Akira’s eyes first shot to the channel’s name— _lifewithcrow_. “Crow?” he mumbled. Ryuji nodded and groaned, already irritated before he’d even started the video. “Yeah, it’s like, I guess it’s his quirky channel name. He calls his fans his _murder_ because he’s so poetic or whatever.” Okay, that was pretty stupid. The channel had about 400,000 subscribers, though the video in question had almost double that in views, which was interesting. He must have a lot of lurkers. Regardless, Akira had to admit 400 thousand was fairly impressive.

“I mean… I don’t think his channel is that bad.”

“Ann’s a part of the murder,” Ryuji immediately quipped, and Ann whapped at him.

“No, I’m totally not! Just… his vlogs aren’t obnoxious? I don’t think they’re as bad as Ryuji makes them out to be. They’re sorta… relaxing?”

Shiho nodded. “His voice is soothing.” Well, they were right about that—not that Akira would admit it. Not with Ryuji present, anyways.

“Well, let’s let him decide—and—Akira, buddy, I swear to _god_ if you become a murder fangirl—”

“Let him form his own opinion!” Ann yelled, and with that, she reached across and slapped the spacebar, playing the video. Ryuji grumbled something as he reached out to put it in full screen and a relaxing chime started playing over a black title card. “ _lifewithcrow_ ” faded in white against the black, and then the black broke apart, turning into the forms of birds and flying away, revealing Akechi positioning a camera in a small kitchenette, presumably the one on campus. “Ugh, wonder what website he got _that_ stock transition on.”

“Literally why do you hate him so much?”

“I hate this channel! I never said anything about the _guy_. Though he seems really pretentious…”

“Hello, my murder!” A cheery, soft voice chimed in, cutting through their chatter. It then laughed softly, a breathy chuckle. “I’m still not quite used to calling you all that…” no doubt, the words out of his mouth were stupid, and this was embarrassing to see. Yet, for some reason, Akira was getting a bit red in the face.

“Today, to begin, I thought I’d film me making myself some breakfast, since you’re all so insistent I eat more. I’m not really a great chef, but hopefully this will be a learning experience…” the music overtook his voice and the scene faded to close-up aesthetic shots of Akechi preparing something. They all watched in silence; a bit entranced by the cinematography. Finally, it faded to a completed plate—crepes overflowing with crème and berries. Back to Akechi, holding overstuffed crepe in question. “Surprise! I made crepes!” They looked really impressive, or at least, the plating was impressive. “There’s a link to the recipe in the description below, but crepes are fairly simple. It’s a bit embarrassing, but I love sweets…” he smiled earnestly at the camera.

“God, he’s so _fake_.”

“Maybe he’s really just that nice!”

“No person is like THIS alone in their room!”

“With that being said, let’s dig in!” He opened his mouth wide, took a big bite of the crepe, and the video cut to a different scene. Akechi wasn’t on camera anymore, seeing as he was likely his only cameraman. “I’m in Inokashira Park today. The cherry blossoms are blooming, so I came here early to beat the crowd. I wanted to share the view with you all—maybe I’ll convince you to pick up morning biking. Onto bike camera!” The shot changed and a different song started playing, still serene but a bit cuter with a traditional Japanese twist to the melody. It seemed he had a camera mounted to the front of his bike to film the trail.

“I don’t get how you watch this shit, Ann. It’s so _boring_.” Ryuji reached out to skip the biking montage, scrubbing through the video.

“Hey! I was sort of enjoying that. I mean—what about Akira? It’s not that bad, right?”

“It’s so awful! Enjoying his videos must be a girl thing, look at Akira. He’s so red—it’s totally skeeving him out!” Ryuji said with a self-assured chuckle.

“Maybe that’s not why he’s red?” Ann offered, not helpfully. Akira gulped.

“Well,” he finally said, “it’s not as bad as Ryuji made it out to be.”

“Oh oh oh!” Ann yelled, and Ryuji slammed a fist on the table.

“Come _on_ , dude! You have got to be kidding me! You too?!”

“It’s not Akira’s responsibility to hold up your weird Akechi vendetta!” Ann shot back.

“He’s earnest enough. It’s not like those loud disruptive vloggers. He even said he woke up early for the biking bit—if he stays out of the way, what’s the problem?” Akira turned to his left. “Yusuke, what do you think?” Yusuke’s head popped up from his plate.

“About the food? Delicious. Though, it could use a bit of seasoning, and I’d rather it not have been instant, but I can settle.” Akira nodded, pointing a hand Yusuke’s way. “See? Point made.”

“Wh—that has nothing to do with Akechi, dude! He totally wasn’t paying attention!” Ryuji groaned, running a hand down his face. “He has a stupid mullet, his demeanor is super fake, I think he dyes his hair that color, he—”

“Ryuji, _you_ color your hair.” She turned to “See? A total vendetta against the guy.”

“Hey! I have a compelling case against him. Hold on, hold on, let’s go to a different video. This one is _way_ worse, trust me.”

He clicked to the next tab. This one was titled _Visiting Destinyland Pt. 1._

“His titles are straightforward,” Akira commented.

“Yeah!” Ann cut in excitedly. “He doesn’t clickbait! Not really, at least.”

Akira was starting to think she was more of a fan of Akechi than she let on.

The video started off similarly to the first, with Akechi sitting in front of one of the walls in his apartment unit. There was a variety of artworks filling the beige wall behind him, delicately tetrised together to fill the space. “Hello, my murder!” He cheered. Ryuji gagged, pausing the video. “Look, see?” he shouted, jabbing a finger into the screen.

“Ryuji, careful with my laptop!” Ryuji withdrew his finger a millimeter. “How entitled do you have to be to hang artwork of _yourself_ all over the place?!”

“Honestly,” Ann halted her protest to Ryuji as Akira spoke up. “It’s cute art and all, but like… some of these aren’t… exactly… the quality of art I’d picture from someone who’s hanging it up out of entitlement.” Some of the drawings seemed like they were drawn by young children—as in, legitimately young children, not an older person with the ability of a young child.

“Exactly!” Ann concurred. “It’s fanart. His fans love that he hangs them up! It shows how much he cares!”

Ryuji grumbled, still not convinced. “I’unno, if someone gave me a portrait of myself, I’d like… appreciate it, but I’d prolly hide it away under my bed or somethin’.”

“What if I were to present you with such a piece?” Yusuke offered. Ryuji sputtered and paused, looking to Yusuke like he was a ghost.

“Well, obviously, I’d hang it up front and center!” he quickly recovered. Yusuke then nodded softly. “Then perhaps it’s a similar sentiment for Akechi.” Ryuji’s lips flapped aimlessly, looking a bit like a goldfish. “Er—well—okay, fine.” His voice lowered to be nearly inaudible. “I guess it’s nice of him.”

“Oh, I think we’re converting him!”

“Fat effin’ chance!” ever quick to recover, Ryuji smacked the space bar aggressively, resuming the video.

“I’m quite excited today, as I have plans to visit Destinyland. I have never been—what initially drew me in was a comment from my friend ‘alipinkfeather’” the comment in question appeared on the screen along with a little “pop” sound effect. The user had a very zoomed in image of Pink Ranger from Featherman as their icon, the comment itself saying ‘when you gonna do something with the destinyland x featherman collab huh?’ “—informing me of a recent collaboration between Destiny and Featherman, a series which… well, as you all know, it was leaked that I’m quite the fan after a connection was made to previous accounts I have held in certain forums…” he was mumbling now, face going a bit red as he fussed with his hair. “Well, you all have been asking for me to… expose you to that interest of mine, and although I find it embarrassing, today is a special day—February 18th, alipinkfeather’s birthday! For certain reasons, she has never been able to visit Destinyland, so it was a request of hers for me to vlog there and share it for her to see. I hope I’m able to show you everything you’d wanted to see! Actually, she even made me a bit of a task list.” The task list in question appeared.

GORK’S DESTINYLAND QUEST LIST:

  * try the bear macarons, some churros, the red stuff gateau, teddie beignets, and the chili lime corn on the cob. bonus points if you throw up
  * give us the tea on milady’s teacups
  * view of the city from the ferris wheel in hawaii adventure
  * the haunted palace (:<
  * ziodyne mountain!!!!!
  * aques mountain to wash off the vomit from ziodyne mountain
  * captain kidd’s caribbean in mementos kingdom
  * paint the masquerade parade at the end!
  * if u have freetime i wanna see what u pick
  * for even numbers sake



Needless to say, alipinkfeather was fairly demanding.

“I’d say she has plans to make me, er… lose my lunch. So, I won’t quite be doing all of these in order. But I’ll try my best to make her trip to Destinyland worth it!” With that, it cut to him receiving his ticket at the front, camera angled slightly to the ground, likely in an effort to keep it hidden.

“So… he’s doing something really nice for a friend?” Akira still couldn’t see where Ryuji was going with this.

“Hear me out. So, this guy has somehow managed to twist a trip to Destinyland _alone_ into some sort of act of sainthood. You can’t tell me you’re actually buying this.”

Akira frowned. “I don’t know. Honestly, it seems really… sweet of him?”

Ann was nodding profusely. “It is _so_ sweet! I wish I was alipinkfeather! I wonder if she’s a…” her face contorted into something dangerous. “ _girlfriend_?”

“No way! Dude, Akechi is totally _gay!_ ”

Everyone went silent. Akira thought he’d be the only one to go rigid, but everyone else seemed equally bothered by Ryuji’s phrasing. In the background were the vague crowd noises of Destinyland, with Akechi occasionally whispering into his mic, likely trying not to be disruptive.

“I—I mean, does no one else get that from him? Like, with the long hair… and the way he uh.” Ryuji gulped, scratching at the back of his neck. “The way he stands, and stuff.”

Finally, Ann huffed. “That doesn’t mean anything, Ryuji. We don’t know that about him.”

Ryuji sighed, louder than needed. “Jeez, sorry, I didn’t expect everyone to get all weird about it. I still vote he is, though.”

“I wasn’t saying he _isn’t_ , like, gay, just. Y’know, so what? Why make a thing of it?”

Ryuji was momentarily speechless. “I said one thing…” he muttered. “Can we just move on?” Ann sighed and nodded, crossing her arms.

“Maybe we should talk about it once our guests leave, though.” She reached up to pinch one of Ryuji’s ears, but he dodged. “Wh—I’m a guest too! I don’t live here!”

This conversation was making Akira really uncomfortable, reconsidering just how open he could be about his attraction to Akechi around them. He knew he shouldn’t be worried about Ryuji labeling him gay, and that it was bad on Ryuji’s part to be assuming things about anyone, but it still made him feel a bit iffy. His only comfort was his new seed of hope: that Goro Akechi was gay. He was starting to sound like a pretty good boyfriend, if Akira was being honest.

Ryuji finally stopped the video, closing out of the tab as well as the others he had planned. “Well, this clearly isn’t going how I wanted it, so—”

“Giving up?” Ann sounded incredibly smug. Ryuji barely resisted flipping his plate.

“I didn’t expect everybody to like him so much!”

“Well, he’s likable.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Yusuke cut in, “I must admit I am quite disappointed in the reality of the _video blog_.”

Ryuji snorted. “That’s sorta some consolation, but not for the reason you intended, I think.”

After they had all finally finished their food, Akira and Yusuke headed for the door.

“I had fun. Thanks for inviting us over. I liked the vlog marathon.”

“It was fine. The food was okay.” Yusuke commented, reaching into a box to take some more food for the road.

“Yea, thanks for coming over! We all should make sure to hang out a lot! Maybe we could uh, steal all of _Ryuji’s_ food next time,” Ann sneered, and Ryuji groaned. “Hey, I told you, my roommate is a bit, too, uh… talkative.”

“We’re all talkative!”

“I just needed a break from him, okay?!”

“You’ve known him for _ONE AFTERNOON!”_

“And I needed a _break!_ ”

Akira had already opened the door. “Well, we’re out. Night, guys.”

They both immediately regained their composure to wave them off. They were ridiculous.

Once they made it back to the dorm, Akira finished helping Yusuke make his bed, an arrangement which the boy stiffly laid down on as though he was Dracula returning to his coffin. “Well, er… get comfortable.” Akira urged, pushing at him with his hands. Yusuke nodded. “I have. Thank you again, Akira.” Akira left it at that.

When Akira had finally settled into bed, he was greeted to multiple notifications on his phone.

**Futaba** : sojiro says he mi…

**Ryuji:** i dunno if you eve…

**Ann:** Do you think we sh...

Grinning to himself, he concealed his smile in his pillow for no one in particular and tapped the first message.

**Futaba:** sojiro says he misses youuuuu </3

**Futaba:** what a softy! sojiro’s biggest flaw is truly his bleeding heart

**Futaba** : he told me not to tell you so ixnay on the missing you thing

**Futaba:** nvm he felt bad if you felt like you wouldnt be missed so he said I can tell you Your Work Around The Shop Is Needed or whatever

**Futaba:** aka im a big softy and i miss my nerd son

**Futaba** : [attachment]

It was a blurry image of Sojiro facing the TV, holding Morgana in his arms.

**Futaba:** hes already claimed a surrogate

**Futaba** : im doing totally fine tho. however… ive been craving your special curry. your secrets seem to still evade sojiro

**Futaba:** so dont be late for work this week!

Akira snorted. The irony of her using essentially the same cover-up for affection that Sojiro had was not missed on him.

**Akira** : Wouldn’t dream of it.

He was a bit nervous about what Ryuji had to say, so he skipped over it for Ann’s message.

**Ann** : Do you think we should invite Akechi to hang out?

**Ann:** He seems lonely. In his vlogs, the only consistent friend he’s had is that alipinkfeather girl.

**Ann:** Most of his friends on-campus have dropped out… it’s really sad. He always seems really beaten up about it.

**Ann** : I don’t know his dorm room, but we could find out somehow and surprise him! We could bring food or something so he can’t say no.

**Ann** : What do you think?

**Akira** : He lives in the staff housing at the far edge of campus.

**Akira** : He said he’s the only resident, so we could try knocking on every door.

Akira reconsidered what he had just sent. Surprising him suddenly sounded sort of rude.

**Akira** : I’m not so sure about surprising him, though.

**Akira** : Isn’t that a bit uncalled for? He wouldn’t be prepared.

**Akira** : He seems straightedge, so I don’t know if he’d appreciate that.

Now, while Akira waited for Ann’s response, he needed to face Ryuji’s.

**Ryuji:** i dunno if you even remember what I said tonight about uh. akechi being, yknow

**Ryuji** : but i talked to ann and she helped me understand some stuff so I thought id apologize to you guys just in case it bothered you

**Ryuji** : im not like… against that sorta stuff

Tactful avoidance of the word “homophobic.”

**Ryuji:** i just dont know a lot

Akira sighed. It wasn’t that bad. It had bothered him more than he’d like to admit, but he feels that was more of an issue on his part than the implications of Ryuji’s words.

**Akira** : It’s fine. I wasn’t really offended.

**Akira:** Thanks, though. Don’t worry about it. It’s tough to stay informed.

Just when he sent his response, Ann sent one of her own.

**Ann:** You’re right. He does seem fairly straightedge…

**Ann:** But maybe it’d be an interesting judge of his character? Maybe not too crazy with the food… but just some snacks or something

**Ann:** Maybe he likes surprises!

**Akira:** It still seems risky.

Akira worried his lip. They weren’t trying to hurt anyone, though, right? A sudden declaration of friendship would certainly make Akechi feel involved, at the very least.

**Akira:** But okay. Let’s try it. Just don’t be too imposing.

**Akira** : And this hopefully isn’t just because you’re a fan.

**Ann:** You would think that of me!? I would never!

**Ann:** I have fans of my own, you know! I understand how it is.

No, he didn’t know. Fans for what? Was everybody here famou—well. It was a prestigious academy. Okay, maybe everyone here was a little special, except for him.

**Ann:** But yay!! I’ll prepare snacks. I might have to go shopping after a certain beanpole goblin ate all of ours

**Ann:** I hope he says yes to hanging out!

**Akira** : I just hope he likes the bombardment at all.

With a sigh, he finally plugged his phone on the charger, hopping off bed to unfurl the covers and turn out the light.

Even if Akechi denied them, maybe he could get a giggle out of it, at the very least.

**Author's Note:**

> whom could that be???? i hope you liked the first chapter!! the next update will be a week from now (if i properly remember lol)


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